


mystery lover

by justafujoshi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Comedy, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Olympics, POV Third Person, Post-Haikyuu!! Chapter 402: Final Chapter: Challengers, SakuAtsu, Volleyball Dorks in Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28311858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justafujoshi/pseuds/justafujoshi
Summary: On the first day of their stay at the Olympic village, Bokuto Koutarou opens up his athletic trainer’s duffel bag. The last thing he expects to find is a jewellery box.Without thinking, he reaches out, pries the box out of its hiding place, and opens it:There is a ring inside.Alternatively titled: the Japanese Volleyball team tries to figure out who Iwaizumi is going to propose to
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 128
Kudos: 471





	1. wedding ring

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wedding Ring](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25393174) by [crazychipmunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazychipmunk/pseuds/crazychipmunk). 



> Hello, I’m here with another contribution to the Haikyuu fandom and the iwaoi club.

  
On the first day of their stay at the Olympic village, Bokuto Koutarou opens up his athletic trainer’s duffel bag. The last thing he expects to find is a jewellery box .

He even double-checks the tag to make sure that yes, this bag indeed belongs to Iwaizumi Hajime (27) athletic trainer.

He even rubs his eyes to make sure that it isn’t a hallucination.

When he reopens his eyes, the velvet 2-by-2 inch box is still there, tucked in between two neatly folded towels, almost inconspicuous if not for the colour contrast.

Confusion washes over him, then curiosity. Without thinking, he reaches out, pries the box out of its hiding place, and opens it:

There is a ring inside.

Not one, but _two_. Two identical gold bands, cushioned side by side within the folds of the box. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out their purpose.

“Bokuto!” Bokuto jolts, almost dropping the box. “What’s taking you so long?”

“Sorry, sorry!” Bokuto hastily stuffs the ring box deep into the bag before finally paying attention to what he came here for. “Uh, how many should I bring?”

“Just bring the whole box!” Iwaizumi says, and just the sound of his voice sends Bokuto’s skin prickling with guilt. He had just snooped around without permission after all.

“Okay!” Bokuto shouts back, hoping his voice doesn’t give him away. He quickly finds the box of bandages nestled in the corner along with Iwaizumi’s other first aid supplies, zips the bag back up, and heads back to his team.

“Finally, I thought I would bleed to death before you came back,” Atsumu snarks good-naturedly. Atsumu needed a bandage, which was why Iwaizumi sent Bokuto to get them from his bag. Miya is bleeding slightly from the nail plate of his finger. It’s nothing that would impede his play, but Iwaizumi, the meticulous trainer he is, wanted to wrap it up to reduce the chance of further injuries.

Bokuto opens the box, pulls out the little roll of white bandages and dutifully to Iwaizumi.

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi smiles up at him, and Bokuto feels even guiltier. “You can go join the others now.”

Bokuto grins back, leaving the duo for the rest of Japan’s national team huddled a few feet away, doing post-training cool-downs as a group. He mindlessly goes through the motions for each muscle group, having done this enough times to do this cool down routine in his sleep.

_There is a wedding ring in Iwaizumi’s bag. Iwaizumi is going to propose to his girlfriend. Iwaizumi has a girlfriend. There is a wedding ring—_

Bokuto absentmindedly pushes down on Hinata’s shoulders to help him stretch his hamstrings, his mind running in circles. Too occupied by this newfound revelation that he pushes Hinata a tad bit too hard.

“Ow ow Bokuto-san!” Jerked back to reality, Bokuto immediately releases Hinata with an apology.

Hinata just beams back up at Bokuto, waving away his apology, and they continue on with their stretches without any more mishaps.

Then, a thought occurs suddenly to Bokuto.

“Hinata, you’re from Miyagi!” He exclaims. Hinata gives him a questioning nod. “Then you must have known Iwaizumi from your school days, right?”

“Yes! But Bokuto-san, you knew we were from Miyagi from the start though?”

Bokuto did. But the possibility of the Miyagi folk having known each other beforehand hasn’t crossed his mind until approximately ten seconds ago, for he is not the type to care about his teammates’ backgrounds or prior accomplishments— if they’re in the national team, that means they’re a good player, simple as that. But now, maybe he can take advantage of their common origins to do some sleuthing.

“So you’re friends with Iwaizumi since high school?”

“Ah, no, our schools only played each other. We only became friends when we joined the national team! Actually, that’s with everyone from Aoba Johsai, we only became friends like wayyy after high school, and I met Oikawa-san at—”

“So do you know that...if Iwaizumi has a girlfriend?” Bokuto interrupts, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Girlfriend?” Hinata parrots. “No…?”

“Ahh it’s okay, forget I asked,” Bokuto says hastily. He shouldn’t be meddling, but he’s just surprised that the topic never cropped up in the whole year that they have been working together in the national team. He almost feels betrayed that Iwaizumi neglected to tell his friends about someone as important enough as his (soon to be) life partner.

Though if Iwaizumi wanted to keep her a secret, Bokuto can respect that.

(That doesn’t mean he’s not going to be salty about it. After all, weren’t they friends?)

The topic of Iwaizumi’s girlfriend is dropped in favour of properly icing their muscles, and Bokuto only brings it up again over dinner with his bestest bro, Kuroo Tetsurou, in a thinly veiled compaint.

Predictably, Kuroo is also shocked by Iwaizumi’s relationship status. Iwaizumi once told them he was too busy ‘babysitting you bastards’ to make time for anything else, and everyone had just assumed that their athletic trainer was single. Until now.

“Hol’up,” Kuroo says , sounding quite faint. “You mean all this time, he’s been rejecting all our efforts to set him up…because he _already_ has someone?”

“Exactly!” Bokuto thumps a fist down on the table, earning dirty stares from the other patrons in the restaurant. “He could have just _told_ us there’s already someone, and we would have immediately backed off!”

Kuroo puts his hands under his chin. “Maybe he just got together with her recently? But it couldn’t have been that recent since he’s going to propose to her…”

“Yeah. That, and I don’t think Iwaizumi’s the type to rush things—”

“Unless it’s—ah never mind—”

“What? Unless what?” Bokuto presses.

“Unless… he knocked her up?” Kuroo says, unsurely.

“Really, but he’s so responsible though?”

“Hey you never know. Accidents happen, condoms break, the pill fails, ovulation—”

“Alright alright, no need for the sex ed!”

In the end, they get no closer to determining the identity of Iwaizumi’s girlfriend, but inversely, their curiosity has expanded to greater bounds. They’ve even taken to stalking Iwaizumi’s Twitter and Instagram accounts, but to no avail. In the end, they give up, deciding to put their time to better use by prank calling Tsukishima.

By the time Bokuto readies for bed that night, ready to recharge for a busy day of training ahead in preparation for games, the identity of Iwaizumi’s girlfriend is but a mere recall at the back of his mind. He sends Akaashi a goodnight selfie, and is just about to tuck himself into the lumpy bed when his door opens.

Bokuto cranes his head to look at his roommate. “Mori-kun, You’re back! And Aran? What’re you doing here?” He sits up, taking off his eye mask to properly address his teammates Yaku Morisuke and Ojiro Aran.

Yaku snickers as Aran lets out a long suffering sigh. “All I want this olympics is some peace and quiet. Why can’t I have that.”

“Huh?”

Aran sits heavily onto Yaku’s bed. “My _roommate_ and his boyfriend are fighting. In my room.”

“Sounds more like violent foreplay, but yeah, that.”

“Morisuke, please. I didn’t need tha’ mental image.”

It takes Bokuto a few seconds to understand what they’re getting at, but he does. “Tsum-tsum and Omi-omi?”

Aran gives him an tired look. “Do we know any other couple in the national team?”

“No,” Bokuto answers. “But Aran, why didn’t you just room with Komori and let the boyfriends stay together?”

“Because. And I quote Atsumu: _‘Omi-omi didn’t ask me to!’_ ” Aran whines in an imitation of Atsumu’s voice, and it sends Bokuto and Yaku clutching their stomachs in laughter. “And get this, I asked Komori, and he told me that Sakusa was also waiting for Atsumu to ask him!” The best part is that Bokuto could literally picture that happening, given how tsundere the couple are.

“Im hearing this for the second time, and it’s still as funny as the first!” Yaku wheezes.

“Tha’s what happens when two emotionally constipated people date each other,” Aran says with a mock sigh. 

Aran regales them with stories of his woes of third-wheeling the eccentric couple, and somehow it’s even funnier when he says it with a deadpan and his strong Kansai accent. Time seems to just fly by, and it’s only when Bokuto inadvertently yawns, followed by Yaku in a chain reaction, that Aran excuses himself.

“Bye bye Aran,” Bokuto waves, “hope you won’t be sexiled.”

“If not, just go to Komori’s, it’ll be free,” Yaku suggests.

Aran hums thoughtfully as he slides into his slippers. “Good idea. I’ll swing by mine and Atsumu’s to check first, see if the lovebirds finally got it out their system.”

“Update us on the situation!”

The room quiets. Bokuto lets out another yawn, laying back down onto his bed and browsing through Twitter as Yaku brushes his teeth in the bathroom. Yaku finishes up quickly, switching the lights off on his way to the bed. Darkness enshrouds them, save for their phone screens.

Bokuto locks his phone and puts it on the bedside table.

“Aran texted. He says he’s going to sleep at Komori’s after all.”

At Yaku’s comment, Bokuto raises his eyebrows even though he knows Yaku can’t see. “Huh, so Tsum-tsum and Omi-omi are actually getting it on.”

“Aran says he heard moans, and didn’t stick around any longer.” Yaku laughs. “Bet Atsumu’s gonna get a tongue lashing from Aran tomorrow morning.”

Bokuto snickers. “They’re pretty gutsy to do it with full day training tomorrow. Any more updates?”

“No…wait actually, do you happen to know if Iwaizumi have a girlfriend?”

Bokuto blinks. Did Yaku just ask—

“Aran texted me that,” Yaku adds, as if sensing Bokuto’s confusion. “I didn’t know Iwaizumi’s attached?”

“I…I didn’t know either,” Bokuto says, taken aback. His mind flashes back to the jewellery box he saw in Iwaizumi’s bag this afternoon. “Why’d he ask?”

* * *

  
Aran leaves Yaku and Bokuto’s room, shutting the door behind him. Putting his hands in his pockets, he meanders back to his room, praying to the deities of Volleyball for a good night’s sleep.

Alas, the deities of Volleyball did not answer his prayers, for what sounded suspiciously like muffled moans of pleasure assaults Aran’s poor ears through the paper-thin walls of their accommodation.

What karma did he commit to deserve this blasphemy, Aran thinks to himself woefully. He does a 180 as Atsumu’s voice increases in volume, eager to flee the scene and maybe go pour bleach into his ears.

He heads one floor down to Sakusa and Komori’s room (soon to be his and Komori’s, if Aran could have his way), thinking of all the ways he would embarrass the couple the following morning, when he spots a familiar face by the staircase.

“Oh! Iwa—” Aran starts, but falters when Iwaizumi lets out a huge laugh, heavily leaning against the railing. It’s then that Aran notices that Iwaizumi has his AirPods on, and deduces that he’s probably on the phone with someone.

“Don’t be like that, your sister’s just worried,” Iwaizumi says. “She misses you a lot, you know.”

It’s obvious to Aran that whomever Iwaizumi is talking to, he’s incredibly fond of, for his voice is gentler, softer. Without the harsh inflections Iwaizumi sometimes adopts when he’s scolding his players for doing something stupid, or the encouraging, energetic tone for when he screams _“one more rep!”,_ it’s as if Aran is hearing a completely different person.

Aran briefly entertains the thought of Iwaizumi speaking like this to the National team, then decides that enough of his teammates have manly crushes on Iwaizumi that it would bring more harm than good to their dynamic.

“Hey, are you serious?” Iwaizumi says into the phone, amusement coloring his tone. He finally sees Aran as the latter walks down the stairs, and lifts a hand in greeting. Aran reciprocates. “You—fine, if it’ll get you to go the fuck to sleep…”

Aran continues walking.

“…I miss you, too.”

Aran almost trips over his own feet. Thankfully, he regains his balance in time to avoid making a fool of himself, and forces his legs to continue its merry way to Komori’s room.

The cogs in his brain turn at what his curious ears picked up on:

Firstly, he has never heard Iwaizumi Hajime’s voice go this soft for anyone before, not even when Hinata Shoyou, their resident ball of sunshine, took a ball to the face and had to be carted to the hospital for a broken nose (that day, everyone, including Iwaizumi, had been very worried).

Secondly, ‘ _I miss you, too_ ’?! Now, Aran is curious. Maybe it’s a parent, sibling, or a very close friend…

Or maybe, Aran thinks, as he sneaks a glance back at Iwaizumi through the reflection of the window—it’s a face Aran has seen many times: on Atsumu to Sakusa, on Osamu and Suna to each other, even on his parents— Iwaizumi’s got a lover.

The thought lingers even as he reaches Komori’s room, gets welcomed with open arms and a laugh, and messes up Sakusa’s crisp sheets. Finally, the lights go off for sleep, and only then does he say something about it.

“Komori.”

“‘Sup?”

“Y’know if Iwaizumi-san has a girlfriend?”

“Dunno, not that close with him. Though Bokuto-san and Ushijima-san are, try asking them?”

Figuring that it couldn’t hurt to ask, Aran reaches over for his phone from the bedside table.


	2. Milk Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaku and Aran look at each other. “Milk bread?” They chorus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishing everyone a happy new year and a great year ahead!

Yaku relays Aran’s story to a wide-eyed Bokuto, who, five minutes ago, looked on the verge of collapse. Now, the wing spiker listens with rapt attention, and Yaku could almost see the cogs spinning in his brain.

“Aran actually heard that, right?”

“Yeah, he says he was still close enough that there’s no mistaking what Iwaizumi said. He literally said ‘I miss you’. Aran doesn’t think it’s to his mom, and frankly, from his story, neither do I.”

“Hmm,” Bokuto looks conflicted. “So you guys think Iwaizumi’s got a girlfriend?”

“I don’t know. I actually thought you’d know, since you guys play pool together every week! How do you not?”

“That’s the thing!” Bokuto exclaims, and Yaku is slightly taken aback by its sheer volume. “I _thought_ he was single; we all thought he was single! We talked about relationships a lot, and he even helped me shop for Akaashi for our 5thanniversary, and he didn’t mention _at all_ that he was seeing someone!”

Underneath his curiosity, Yaku realizes that Bokuto is hurt. Bokuto, who shares every detail of his private life so freely to his friends, is unable to understand why Iwaizumi is unable to reciprocate, especially with something as important as a significant other. Yaku can empathize— he’d be mad too if either Kuroo or Kai withheld such information from him too.

As for Yaku, he and Iwaizumi maintain mostly a professional relationship. Unlike Bokuto, who’d known Iwaizumi since his MSBY days, Yaku only met the man last year when he came back to Japan to join the national team.

“Bokuto,” Yaku interrupts Bokuto’s rant. “I’m sure Iwaizumi has a good reason why he’s not telling you guys. Maybe she’s just shy, or maybe they just started dating?”

In response, Bokuto just makes animalistic noises that Yaku decodes as frustration. “He’s not— he’s going— Agh! Never mind!” Yaku is left bewildered as Bokuto heavily slumps back down onto the bed and folds his arms, glaring at the ceiling as if it had wronged him.

“Hey man,” Yaku tries again, unsure as to how he should approach Bokuto in his current state. Where was Akaashi when he needed him? “He‘ll tell you eventually, I think, just give him time?”

“When? At his wedding?” Bokuto bites.

“You’re exaggerating, no way he’d wait that long,” Yaku responds. He thinks Bokuto is being ridiculous, but Bokuto wouldn’t be Bokuto if he didn’t have at least one mood swing a week. “Come on, it’s late, let’s sleep.”

After some more grumbling, Bokuto finally relents. Yaku suspects it’s more Bokuto’s exhaustion overruling his frustration rather than Yaku’s sad attempts to comfort him; regardless, it gets Yaku the desired outcome, and they are both out like a light until their alarms blare the next morning.

* * *

Ever since Sakusa swapped rooms with Aran, Komori Motoya’s stay at Olympic village has gotten more entertaining. Sure, Komori loves his cousin, but Sakusa Kiyoomi isn’t exactly his first choice as a roommate, with Sakusa’s one hundred and one cleaning rituals that he ‘absolutely has to do every day’. Not to mention he’s hardly around either; he’s always either at the sauna or his boyfriend’s. Suffice to say, Komori is happy to trade Sakusa for Aran.

Aran’s fun to talk to, and even gives Komori free onigiri, courtesy of Onigiri Miya. Not to mention that with Aran comes Yaku, and this combo is _lethal_ to Komori’s sense of humor.

Tonight, the three of them are on Aran’s bed, watching V.League reruns and playfully roasting literally everyone that comes onscreen, even themselves. Komori is enjoying this more than he should.

Yaku lets out a screech of laughter when MSBY’s Miya Atsumu and Hinata Shouyou scores against Schweiden Adler’s Hirugami Fukuro’s block.

“Look at Kageyama’s face!”

Rewinding the video to rewatch the moment, Aran doubles over, tears of mirth in his eyes “He looked like he was about to tear off ‘Tsumu’s head!”

“Someone is _definitely_ jealous!”

Komori looks at pixelated Kageyama glaring at Hinata and Atsumu. While Komori doesn’t see any jealousy, the younger is undeniably fuming, eyebrows furrowed and teeth bared; not a look he usually sees on the usually stoic setter.

“Oh wow, ‘Tsumu’s now bullying Kageyama,” Aran comments. Sure enough, the video catches Atsumu taunting Kageyama from across the net. Komori snorts; Atsumu’s still the same now at twenty-six as when he was twenty-three.

The MSBY Black Jackals takes the third set 25-23, signaling the end of this video. Aran cancels autoplay, turning to other other two. “One more? Or should we go sleep?”

“It’s only nine. We have time for one more set!” Yaku says.

“Okay, but let me get more drinks first.”

“Oh, me too,” Motoya pipes up, eyeing his empty bottle of tea.

It turns out, they all want more drinks, but everyone is too lazy to offer to grocery run. Yaku suggests Rock Paper Scissors to decide who goes.

“Rock paper scissors!”

Komori glares at his fist, betrayed.

“Thanks Komori!” Both Aran and Yaku say with too-wide grins on their faces, and off Komori goes, sullenly trudging his way downstairs to the vending machine.

Komori and Aran’s room is on the third floor, so Komori opts for the stairs over the slow, creaky elevator. He makes his merry way down, nodding politely to the athletes he passes. When he reaches the first floor and pushes open the emergency exit door, the vending machines are already in sight.

Yaku wants vitamin water and Aran wants oolong tea, Komori thinks as he pulls out his wallet. He’s in the middle of deciding between two flavors of soda water when a figure comes to stand beside him.

“Yo.”

“Iwaizumi-san, hi,” Komori greets the trainer, “not sleeping yet?”

“Going to, make sure you do too.”

Komori quirks a smile, “yes sir.” His last drink tumbles down the chute, and Komori bends down to pick it up.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning to drink these by yourself,” Iwaizumi says, but his tone says he doesn’t actually think that.

“Oh, no, they’re for Aran-san and Yaku-san too.”

“Ah, so you’re now their errand boy?”

“I just lost at janken,” Komori says petulantly as Iwaizumi chuckles. They make light conversation as Iwaizumi shuffles over to the adjacent snack machine, and Komori raises an eyebrow when he sees Iwaizumi press the button for milk bread.

“For all that you harp on us about eating healthily, who’s the hypocrite now?” Komori teases as Iwaizumi retrieves the packet of diabetes.

Iwaizumi blinks, then he says, neutrally, “this isn’t for me.”

But Komori sees an opening, and pounces. “Aw, don’t be shy, Iwaizumi-san. It’s not a crime to eat dessert.” He laughs when he sees the normal composed trainer fluster, trying to defend himself.

“Well, a treat once in a while doesn’t hurt,” Iwaizumi eventually says, his cheeks dusted pink. He clears his throat. “But not too often, it’s unhealthy. The amount of sugar in this thing is blasphemy; fifteen grams! Fifteen!” He brandishes the packet in Komori’s face.

“Yes sir,” Komori mock salutes. “But Iwaizumi-san, you technically don’t have to be on a strict diet like us, as a trainer. No one would fault you for indulging.” It actually makes Iwaizumi more human-like, in Komori’s opinion.

“Komori, I think you’re misunderstanding something,” Iwaizumi says, and Komori wonders why his voice suddenly becomes strained. “I—I don’t actually like to eat _this_. It’s, uh, for a friend. Yeah, An international friend. And while I’m not obligated to follow the ‘Olympic diet’, I do it because what trainer would I be if I let myself get out of shape? If you guys have to do it, then I’m doing it in solidarity.” The second half was so cool, Komori momentarily forgets the first half as he coos in admiration for their manly athletic trainer.

They part ways back to their respective rooms after Iwaizumi buys a drink to go with his snack. When Komori returns, he is met with a slew of shouts.

Aran is the first to greet him. “Finally! We were ‘bout to send out a search party.”

“Come on, let’s start the video already,” Yaku adds, patting the empty space beside him.

“Sorry sorry, I ran into Iwaizumi-san downstairs and we were talking for a bit.” Komori distributes the drinks. “He was buying milk bread of all things. I didn’t expect him to have such a sweet tooth.”

Yaku and Aran look at each other. “ _Milk bread_?” They chorus.

“Iwaizumi’s the personification of _helth_ ,” Yaku says. “He drinks his coffee black, the monster.”

“Exactly, once, he caught me and ‘Tsumu eating onigiri at night and basically confiscated our whole stash,” Aran says solemnly. “But that was before a game though, and he made it up to us with his homemade fried rice afterwards though, and boy can he cook.”

“Can’t imagine someone like Iwaizumi-san eating anything with added sugar, much less before bed.”

“But I literally saw him buy that milk bread!” Komori insists. Then, a thought occurs to him. “Oh, he said it’s for a friend though, so I guess he’s not eating it himself, oops?”

“A friend.” Yaku and Aran chorus again. “Who, Coach _?”_ Yaku adds sarcastically.

“I don’t know? It could literally be anyone on the team! I didn’t ask.” Komori doesn’t understand the sudden vested interest in their athletic trainer’s eating habits, but he’s starting to get scared of the gleam in his teammates’ eyes.

“It can’t be anyone from the team, we’re all on a strict diet and Iwaizumi’s not one to play favourites,” Aran muses. “I don’t think he’s eating it himself too, it’s too left field, and he hates refined sugar like it’s the devil…”

“So you think—”

“Right?”

“It might be _that_!”

“No other explanation—”

“But that would mean that she’s here??”

“No but it could be just a friend we don’t know—”

Incredibly confused, Komori looks between his teammates as they garble excitedly to themselves. Curiosity burning, he finally asks, “what’s this about?”

Aran looks at him thoughtfully. “Say, Komori, you remember what I asked you the night before when I first crashed here?”

Komori draws a blank. There were lots of things Aran told him that night. “What?”

“About Iwaizumi’s girlfriend.”

A lightbulb switches on in Komori’s brain. “Oh! Yeah, you did. That was so random though, why?” As soon as the words left Komori’s mouth, he feels a hand on either sides of his shoulders. Bewildered, he looks up to the mischievous faces of Yaku and Aran.

“Young Padawan, let us bestow upon you our knowledge…”


	3. Opening Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo sobers up a little. “It’s about Iwaizumi and his secret girlfriend. Not sure if we should tell them?”
> 
> Bokuto perks up. “Iwaizumi?” He could feel Yaku and Aran’s stares boring into him. “You know something?”

Bokuto, Ushijima and Kageyama have been selected to represent the Japanese Volleyball National team in the nation’s parade at the Olympics opening ceremony.

Bokuto doesn’t know very much about the selection process, but Kuroo told him that internet analytics say that the three of them are the most widely recognized Japanese volleyball players, and it’s good for PR. How could Bokuto say no to that?

They wouldn’t have to do anything much, just march alongside the performers in the parade along with the other Japanese athletes, and smile and wave at the audience and the cameras. That, Bokuto could do.

So after practice that day, while everyone else is off relaxing, Bokuto, Ushijima and Kageyama gather with the other japanese athletes at the waiting area to wait for the nation’s parade to begin.

“This is such a waste of time,” a basketball player says nearby, yawning hugely. “I need a nap.”

Another basketball player shushes him. “Aominecchi! Don’t say that!”

“What, Kise, just because you like parading your pretty face around—”

Next to the basketball players, men from the swim team sits in a small huddle against the wall. One of them is even eating a bento of mackerel and rice and boy is that making Bokuto hungry.

“Hey, you think I have time to get a snack real quick,” Bokuto says to Ushijima.

Ushijima glances at his watch. “As long as you make haste, I think you will be fine. But Bokuto, I do not think our nutritionist—”

So off Bokuto goes to the nearest vending machine, and he sees he’s not the only one there: a member of the baseball team (or is it softball? Bokuto doesn’t really know the difference) is also there, sipping casually on his canned coffee.

Bokuto hums a tune, waiting for the machine to heat up his sandwich as he scrolls through his Twitter feed.

“Miyuki Kazuya! There you are!” A voice loud enough to rival even Bokuto’s own jolts him. Bokuto turns to where another baseball-slash-softball player is heading towards his teammate, and he looks pissed.

“Idiot! You’re too loud,” the canned coffee guy says.

Finally, Bokuto’s sandwich is done. Eagerly, he unwraps the packet and takes a huge bite into the warm bread, his digestive system singing praises at the sustenance.

Then, Bokuto feels his shoulder get bumped.

“I am sorry,” the perpetrator says in heavily accented English. He’s a bulky man, clad in an aquamarine blue jersey, and while Bokuto doesn’t recognize the team nor the country he’s from, he can recognize volleyball gear from a mile away, no matter which country it’s from.

Bokuto gives his fellow volleyballer a thumbs up, the universal language for ‘it’s all good’. The foreigner nods curtly in response as he ambles to the vending machines, followed by his smaller-sized brunet companion with a matching jersey.

The smaller man glances at Bokuto, quirks a slight smile that Bokuto returns.

Bokuto watches them idly as he chomps on his sandwich. The smaller man is excitedly jabbering to the taller man in a foreign language, pointing to the various items in the snack machine. The taller man seems to find his antics endearing, as he’s chuckling and nodding along to whatever the smaller man is saying. The smaller man lets out a boisterous laugh as he continues to look at the machine’s contents.

The two foreigners stand in front of the machine for so long that Bokuto thinks they might be confused on how to operate it, but he’s proven wrong when the smaller man takes out what looks like a Suica card to tap it on the reader. A few presses of the buttons later and the machine whirs to life, dropping the chosen item down into the chute. The smaller man, still talking non-stop, bends down to retrieve his item.

_‘These foreigners are so well prepared,’_ Bokuto thinks admirably as he polishes off the remains of his sandwich. He still remembers being so lost during in Rio during the 2016 Olympics, needing the managers and translators to do everything for him, but here are these foreigners operating a Japanese vending machine written in Japanese language all by themselves.

The two foreigners leave and Bokuto follows suit. He throws the wrapper in the trash can and heads back to the waiting area

* * *

The opening ceremony comes and goes without a hitch. Bokuto enjoyed the bright lights, the dancers, the marching band, and being able to directly participate along with other esteemed Team Japan athletes sends his anticipation for the actual games skyrocket into the stratosphere. This year’s Olympics is going to be great, he’s sure.

“Good job you three,” Iwaizumi greets them at the waiting area. Their managers nods along. “Go rest. We have a long day of training ahead of us.” He gives each of them a firm slap on the back.

“Thank you, Iwaizumi-san!” Kageyama says, his eyes practically shining.

“Eight O’clock, correct?” Ushijima asks.

“Yup, we’ll bring your breakfast to gym 3, so just head there directly with your practice gear.” Iwaizumi tells them. “Right, you three head up, we need to speak with the coaches first.” 

They part ways with Iwaizumi and their managers and make a beeline for their rooms. Bokuto is terribly exhausted from being up and about the whole day, and he’s sure the other two are too. Even though all he wants to do is slump into bed, when he opens his room door, he sees Yaku and Aran lazing on the former’s bed.

“Yo, how was it?” Aran asks.

“We were watching from the stands, but we couldn’t even see you, everyone is so small!” Yaku adds.

“It was so good!” Bokuto says with gusto. “Everything was so colorful and sparkly and it was awesome!!”

Bokuto regales the two with his first-hand perspective of the parade, their enthusiasm further fanning the flames of his excitement despite his exhaustion. He’s in the middle of describing the fire hoops section with the gymnasts when his phone vibrates, interrupting him.

“Hm, Kuroo?” Bokuto wonders aloud as he accepts the call. “What’s up?”

“Hey dude, I have some juicy news for ya. Come over?” Kuroo’s timbre sounds from the other end, and Bokuto could almost imagine the slimy smile on his best bro’s face right now.

Bokuto lets out a small whine. “Your room is so far away though, tell me through call?”

“It’s super duper classified top-secret information, the eighth wonder of the world…” Kuroo hypes, and when he puts it like that, Bokuto can’t help but be curious. 

“I’m with Yakkun and Aran now, can they hear this?” Bokuto asks. If not, he’ll just step outside.

Yaku and Aran look at him questioningly.

“Oh,” Kuroo sobers up a little. “It’s about Iwaizumi and his secret girlfriend. Not sure if we should tell them?”

Bokuto perks up. “Iwaizumi?” He could feel Yaku and Aran’s stares boring into him. “You know something?”

“Yeah, Iwaizumi was acting pretty sus during the opening ceremony. But if you can’t talk now, maybe we—”

“WE CAN!” Bokuto yells into the receiver. “Yakkun and Aran think so too. I mean, they know about this, wait, I haven’t told you?”

“You didn’t, you lil’ shit.” 

“Oya?”

“Oya-oya?” Kuroo parrots back instinctively. Then, there is momentary quietness as Bokuto figures out that to say next.

Yaku breaks the silence. “So…what’s this about Iwaizumi?”

“Did the demon say something?”

Bokuto puts him on speaker and places the phone in between the three of them. “The other night, the night that I found the ring, Aran was—”

“Ring!? Spill the beans, you owl!” Yaku demands. Bokuto could practically feel fire emanating from him. “And you, Kuroo, you definitely know something!”

“Guilty as charged.” Smugness drips from Kuroo’s honeyed voice. “Do you wanna know, do you _realllly_ wanna know?”

“Stop being a dick and get your stupid ass down here!”

“Okay, okay, be there in ten!” Kuroo promises, and the line goes dead.

* * *

A heated hour and four tired men later, the round table comes to a close.

“Alright, let’s get this straight,” Kuroo begins, “three days ago, Bokuto accidentally saw a wedding ring in Iwaizumi’s bag. That very same night, Aran walked in on Iwaizumi having a phone call with someone, and he said ‘I miss you’ to them.”

“He was being so soft and sweet,” Aran adds. “It could be his mom, but I have a feeling it’s not.”

“And then two days ago, Komori saw Iwaizumi at the vending machine buying milk bread late at night,” Kuroo continues. “If you ask me that’s even more sus than the phone call, ‘cus that’s definitely not an Iwaizumi thing.”

“Komori said he was being really evasive about it too.”

“And then today, Iwaizumi was almost late for the opening ceremony,” Kuroo says with his conspiracy-theory voice. “Before the opening ceremony Iwaizumi was nowhere to be found, that is, until I saw him rushing in, barely making it in time for the parade, and he’s _never_ late for official events! The ring incident, the milk bread incident, and now the mysterious disappearance: this basically confirms that Iwaizumi’s girlfriend is here in the olympic village at this moment.”

Yaku whistles. “Hot damn.”

“So, what we know now of Iwaizumi’s mystery girlfriend is that one,” Kuroo holds up a finger. “We know she’s Japanese because Aran heard him speak Japanese on the phone. Two, She is a participant of the 2020 Olympics, though we aren’t certain if she’s a staff member or an athlete—”

The other three nod to themselves.

“Three,” Kuroo holds up the last finger. “She is not from the women’s volleyball team, because I know that they were already seated at the venue long before Iwaizumi came.”

A consensus of murmurs ripple among the group.

“Makes sense,” Aran muses to himself. “How confident are you that all this speculation this is true?”

Kuroo’s cat-like eyes seem to twinkle. “Very. We’re definitely going to find out who it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Kuroo’s not wrong.
> 
> Whoever managed to catch all the cameos from the other sports anime, I see you are a man of culture


	4. 4x100 freestyle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here Kuroo is, sitting with Bokuto and Yaku in their room, listing down names of eligible Japanese women on the hotel notepad and debating between themselves the likeliest candidate.

Iwaizumi is being very secretive, much to the frustration of the newly dubbed Iwaizumi Investigation Team. But for now, the mystery girlfriend is put at the back burner as everyone buzzes about today’s victory against Venezuela in the first Preliminary round.

So far, the only thing they could garner was that Iwaizumi now rarely hung around after meals, opting to wolf down his dinner one moment and then disappear the next, unlike before when he would at least socialize with the team after.

The first time they realized this was happening, they’d asked where he’s off in a hurry to, to which Iwaizumi replied that he had a call scheduled with one of their sponsors. The second time, Iwaizumi said he was tired and was off to retire for the day (believable, since Iwaizumi does sleep pretty early even before they came to olympic village). Their third and final attempt ended with Kuroo yanking Bokuto back down onto his seat when the former saw Iwaizumi shooting them suspicious looks; it wouldn’t do to have their target catch onto their objective.

To give him credit, Iwaizumi’s work performance is impeccable as always. Therefore, Iwaizumi’s love life shouldn’t even be any of their business, whether he’s dating an Olympian or whatever, but (most) members of Japan’s Volleyball team aren’t known for being mature or keeping their noses where they belong.

As for Kuroo, while he’s not a part the national team, he likes a challenge, and this challenge is turning out to be more entertaining than initially thought. There’s also the nagging curiosity as to who on earth could have seduced their hot beefcake trainer and claim him as her own, and for so long without anyone noticing too.

While on duty, he works to the best of his ability as PR for the Japanese volleyball association— he strengthens Japan’s relations with international volleyball clubs and works with media companies to expand volleyball’s reach to the general public— but in his downtime, he games with Kenma, binges on TV shows, and occasionally (very occasionally) gossips.

And now, the latest hot topic is Iwaizumi’s future wife.

So here Kuroo is, sitting with Bokuto and Yaku in their room, listing down names of eligible Japanese women on the hotel notepad and debating between themselves the likeliest candidate.

After much fanfare, their two strongest bets are Hana Misaki, one of the two men’s Volleyball Team’s manager and Aragaki Nagisa from the women’s badminton doubles team, the latter whom Kuroo only put on the list because he remembered Iwaizumi praising her spunky determination when they saw her around the village a few days ago. It’s a testament to their pitiful observational abilities that they could only recall _two_ women that their athletic trainer so much as gave a second glance at.

“I think we should stop here for today,” Kuroo finally says after they ruled out the last name on their list, leaving Hana Misaki and Aragaki Nagisa as their only two options.

Yaku looks at the wall clock. “Wow yeah, it’s getting pretty late. We can continue tomorrow.”

Bokuto nods. “At least we have two possibilities. Aran didn’t come, but we can just tell him tomorrow.” 

“Didn’t think the swimming matches would last so long,” Kuroo muses. “Yaku, tell Aran that we’re done for today I guess, and oh, tell him, Suna and Miya to hurry back; you guys need to rest up for the morning interview with-”

“Yes, mom,” Yaku teases.

“Shut up, someone has to take care of you scrubs when Iwaizumi’s not around,” Kuroo retorts. This is definitely out of his job description, but he’s practically buddies with the entire volleyball team; he would step in once in a while when the managers and trainers have their hands full.

Yaku gets up to retrieve his phone from the dressing table as Kuroo goes in to use the toilet. As he’s relieving himself, the combined screams of his best friends assault his ears. He almost honest to god accidentally breaks his dick.

“What the fuck is going on?” Kuroo yells, irritated.

“Holy shit, come quick bro, you gotta see this!” Bokuto yells back at him.

“Alright alright,” Kuroo grumbles as the last leaks of piss hit the toilet, and he zips himself up. After flushing and then washing his hands, he goes out to see what the ruckus is all about.

Yaku and Bokuto are standing, huddled together with Yaku’s phone in between, speaking to each other so excitedly that Kuroo has trouble discerning the exact words.

“What’s up,” Kuroo asks, slotting his head between theirs to look at Yaku’s phone. “Oh, did Aran say something?” His eyes scan through the word vomit that Aran sent Yaku, picking up some commentary about the women’s freestyle relay.

“Wait, start here.” Yaku scrolls up the chat a couple messages prior and hands the phone to Kuroo.

**Aran:**

_20:38_

Yeah Sunarin’s sister is up soon.

Will give u updates.

_21:20_

Dude, guess who we met at the aquatic center??

It’s Iwaizumi!!!

He must have come to watch the freestyle relay too.

Oh Tsumu just ran towards him, brb.

_21:24_

Ok Iwaizumi and Sunarin are talking and apparently

IWAIZUMI KNOWS REINA!!¡!¡

SUNARIN NEVER TOLD ME THIS  
I FEEL SO BETRAYED :(

_21:25 Missed call from **Aran**_

****

_21:26_

Hello??

Why’re both you and Bokuto not picking up??

_21:29_

Oh Iwaizumi left lol, said he was meeting up with someone.

Wonder who tho?? Maybe his gf ;)

Let me know how the list’s going yeah? Imma head back to my room.

**Yaku:**

_21:47_

Oops sflr both our phones were on silent

And Iwaizumi knows Suna’s sister??? Since when??

Oh and how did the swim race go?

**Aran:**

_21:49_

Only came in time for the women’s 4x100m freestyle.

Reina’s team made it into the semifinals!!!!

They came in 3rd!!!

Sweden and Argentina came 1st and 2nd

16 countries make it to semifinals so they made it by a long shot

So excited! We have to do well too!!

**Yaku:**

_21:50_

Defo! Talk later tmr

Gnite

**Aran:**

_21:50_

Nite

Kuroo reached the end of the chat and hands the phone back to Yaku. Yes, he’s bubbling with excitement over Team Japan’s achievements tonight. At the same time, he locks eyes with Yaku, and he knows that Yaku’s wondering the same thing:

Why did Iwaizumi attend the event separately from Aran, Suna and Atsumu?

It’s no secret that the younger Suna is also an olympian this year, and the Inarizaki alumni trio had extended an open invitation to everyone on the team to join them in their support. Yet, Iwaizumi was alone. Maybe he doesn’t want anyone to see him at the event?

That train thought immediately leads to the following hypothesis:

Suna Reina, Team Japan’s freestyle swimmer for the 2020 Olympics and also Suna Rintarou’s little sister, could be Iwaizumi Hajime’s mysterious girlfriend.

* * *

Suna Rintarou does not know what tomfoolery Aran and Komori are getting up to these past few days, and honestly, he doesn’t really care. All he wants for the next two weeks is play to his hearts’ content, and maybe a medal would be nice, too.

Which is why when Aran sidled up to him and not-so-nonchalantly asks about his sister, even though he has never shown a lick of interest all through high school and beyond, Rintarou knows that something is up.

_“No, Aran, I told you Reina’s not seeing anyone. Mom already asked recently.” “Um, I don’t know if she likes buff men, ask her yourself.” “Yes I’m 1000% sure she’s not dating anyone in secret, she’s not the type to do that.” “Iwaizumi-san? We coincidentally met him when my family went for a trip to Sendai and that’s how she knows him. He was—NO HE DIDN’T HIT ON HER WHAT THE FUCK-”_

Even when Aran finally lets him go, Rintarou is pretty sure Aran doesn’t believe him. But what he told Aran is all he knows. The Suna family isn’t the type to pry into each other’s business, so if Reina tells them that she isn’t currently dating anyone, then she isn’t. The end.

Here he thought that Atsumu and his boyfriend woes would be his only headache, and now he has to deal with Aran and his newfound obsession with Reina? Rintarou wishes that Kita was here to help deal with this clown fiesta, but lucky he has Osamu to vent to, or he might just implode.

Fear for his mental health aside, Rintarou considers Aran’s sudden interest in Reina. Even if Aran is Rintarou’s teammate and long-time friend, if he is interested to court her, he has to first get through Rintarou. On the other hand, he knows what kind of person Aran is, and he’s definitely an improvement from the douchebag ex-boyfriend that she brought home a few years back.

However, Aran seems to think that Iwaizumi of all people is also interested in Reina. If Rintarou was honest, Iwaizumi was more Reina’s type than Aran. But as far as he knew, Iwaizumi and Reina aren’t anything more than acquaintances, and neither of them showed the slightest interest in progressing beyond that.

On another thought, when Rintarou pictures Iwaizumi and Reina together, he finds that he isn’t opposed to it at all. Their personalities complement each other, and they seemed to have good chemistry last night when Iwaizumi congratulated her for her advancement to the freestyle relay semifinals. Perhaps this is the start of a blooming romance?

With that thought, Rintarou reaches for his phone, leaves his room, and dials Aran’s contact.

“Sunarin? Hey, sorry ‘bout earlier, I was just—”

“Never mind that,” Rintarou interrupts. “I have some questions about my sister.”

The momentary silence on the other end is telling of Aran’s surprise. “…Sure. Shoot.”

“Are you interested in my sister?”

“What! No,” Aran immediately replies. “Did it seem like I was?”

“Yeah. You suddenly asked about her relationship status and romantic life and her choices in partners and all that stuff, what was I supposed to think.”

“Sorry sorry, but I’m definitely not, no offense. If I was, yer would’ve known ages ago.”

“That’s what I thought.” Rintarou leans back against the wall. “Then? Why’d you ask me all that?”

“That’s, uh, I was just wonderin’, since she’s been single for so long so I thou—”

“You asked me about Iwaizumi-san too,” Rintarou interrupts again when Aran doesn’t give him a straight answer. “You think she and Iwaizumi-san are interested in each other?”

“…Yes.”

“Why?” The crux of the call is summarized into one word. Rintarou fiddles with the key card in his hands as he waits for Aran to organize his thoughts. His curiosity is now piqued, because Aran is rarely hesitant about anything.

Finally, Aran answers. “It’s…it’s a long story?”

Rintarou closes his eyes. He inhales, then he exhales.

“I have time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is canon that Suna has a sister! But Furudate never revealed her name or whether she’s younger or older. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this silliness of a fic so far :)


	5. Changing Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They’re like the mom and dad of the team, don’t cha think?”
> 
> “Who?”
> 
> “Hajime-kun and Misaki-chan, duh!”

  
Despite it being a weekday night, Ariake Arena is teeming with volleyball fans gathered to watch the preliminary matches. Even one hour before the official time the match is slated to begin, the deafening cheers can be heard by the players in the waiting room. On one hand, it serves as a good boost to the players’ morale. On the other hand, it makes the team jittery with restless energy, like children given too much sugar.

Kuroo takes in the scene with amusement.

In one corner of the room, there are the younger, newer members of the team frantically calming themselves down despite this being their second match in the Olympics; one of them even looks close to a panic attack. On the other end of the spectrum, he spies Bokuto, Yaku, Aran, Hoshiumi, Gao, Hinata, Kageyama and Atsumu without a lick of nervousness, playing Uno and contributing to Japan’s noise pollution while doing so. In their own little bubble, Ushijima and Sakusa are sitting serenely at the sofa, reading a manga and novel respectively. They don’t look bothered by the noise at all. Or rather, it seems they’ve learnt the art of tuning out their more boisterous teammates.

“Hey Kuroo,” Heiwajima greets him from the floor, where he has his AirPods Pro in and was watching a video.

“Heiwajima-san. It’s pretty loud in here, isn’t it,” Kuroo comments.

“What’s new.” Heiwajima chuckles dryly.

The noise wasn’t this bad the day before, and if Kuroo didn’t know better, he’d think he just walked into a party rather than a changing room at the _Olympics_.

“Tsum-tsum!” Bokuto’s wails have increased the room’s average decibel count by ten. “I trusted you!!” He begins to shake a cackling Atsumu by the shoulders as the circle of Uno players laugh.

“Bokuto! You gotta draw twenty from the deck if you don’t have any more ‘plus’ cards!” Aran yells, followed by a ‘yeah!’ from Yaku beside him. 

Kuroo heads to the Uno group to see if he can save Bokuto from being pwned. “Is Bokuto losing?”

“Kuroo! Bro! Tsum-tsum just pulled a ‘reverse’ on me! And I don’t have any more ‘plus’ cards or turn cards left!”

“Too bad, Bokkun! I also don’t have any ‘plus’ cards left!” Atsumu does not sound the least bit apologetic for his ‘betrayal’.

Kuroo sympathetically claps Bokuto on the back. “Better luck next time, bro.” He leaves the Uno group to their pre-match entertainment to check in on the other players. He heads over to the section of the room with sofas and a coffee table. Suna, Komori and Hyakuzawa have claimed the sofa opposite to Sakusa and Ushijima and are talking between themselves.

“You guys aren’t gonna join in on the Uno?” Kuroo says as a greeting.

“We did, but we took a break because it was getting too…rowdy?” Komori says. They look at the Uno group just in time to see a furious-looking Hoshiumi punching Gao on the shoulder.

“I find that such games are not beneficial, especially before a match,” Ushijima replies.

Sakusa glances at the Uno group, wrinkles his nose in disgust, and turns back to Kuroo. “I would rather—” 

As if on cue, Atsumu’s banshee-like shriek pierces through the conversation, obscuring the rest of Sakusa’s sentence.

Sakusa sighs, gives Kuroo a look that says ‘I have to deal with _this_ everyday’.

“I get you. He was much worse in high school,” Suna pipes up, and it’s when Kuroo notices that he’s chewing on an onigiri. In fact, on his lap, an _Onigiri Miya_ bentou box sits rather inconspicuously, housing two more onigiri. Hyakuzawa, too, is eating an onigiri.

“You sure you should be eating that?” Kuroo asks. Immediately, he scans the room for their managers, trainers, coaches.

Not a single staff member is in here.

Iwaizumi isn’t here.

No wonder it’s so chaotic in here.

“Eh, one doesn’t hurt,” Suna answers nonchalantly.

“Tell that to Iwaizumi-san,” Komori says.

Suna shakes his head. “I don’t have a death wish, thanks.” Iwaizumi is as strict as their official nutritionist regarding the team’s diet plan; Kuroo once witnessed Iwaizumi unhesitatingly confiscate a whole bag of Onigiri Miya goodies from Atsumu and Aran that they were secretly snacking on before a practice match, ignoring their pleading and cries. Despite this, the players still respect Iwaizumi and follow his instructions (most of the time), since they know it’s ultimately to shape them into the best physical condition they could ever be.

Though, if Kuroo is to add in his two-cents, he’d say it was partially because Iwaizumi had an alpha wolf kind of energy that made it hard to disobey him. 

“You better finish that before Iwaizumi gets here,” Kuroo says. He can turn a blind eye, but if Iwaizumi sees, Suna and Hyakuzawa are in for a scolding and the infamous death glare.

Speak of the devil, the devil may come.

Kuroo wouldn’t have seen him come in had he not been facing the door. Iwaizumi walks in, carrying a large crate of water bottles, with Hana Misaki trailing behind him with a sports bag slung over her shoulder.

And because Kuroo noticed him, he was able to predict the events that follow, starting in 3, 2, 1–

“Everyone SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Instantaneously, all noise in the room is killed. For a few seconds, no one dares to make a sound or even move until Heiwajima says, “nice, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi puts down the crate, then levels a glare to the players. The intensity gets upped when his eyes land on the circle of Uno players. Kuroo sees more than half look away guiltily. Atsumu swallows. Bokuto’s hair droops. Kageyama looks scared for his life.

“I leave you guys alone and come back to find you making a ruckus? I could literally hear you from across the fucking building! Hell, I wouldn’t even be surprised if the _reporters outside_ could hear you. You’re supposed to be Japan’s best, act like it.”

Iwaizumi’s voice isn’t even loud, almost overshadowed by the noise from the spectators seated in the arena, but he used his ‘scolding voice’. That, along with look of utter disappointment in his face was enough to make most of the players squirm.

Kuroo lets out a quiet sigh.

While he’s in agreement with Iwaizumi’s actions, everyone in the room is now tense. It’s a bad thing considering they’re due to enter the court in less than half an hour.

It seems Iwaizumi realizes this too, for he adds, in a much softer tone. “Look, it’s not a crime to unwind before a game. I know you’re all nervous, playing in front of such a huge crowd and all, but it’s no good if you spend all your energy here.” He gestures to the Uno group. “Save that for the _actual_ games. We all want to do our best out there, don’t we.”

The players nod. Some of them start to relax now that Iwaizumi doesn’t seem as angry.

“Well said Hajime,” Hana says, patting Iwaizumi on the shoulder. She turns to the team, shooting them a bright smile. “Everyone, sorry we were late! There was a lil’ miscommunication with the logistics team, but it’s all solved now!”

Just like that, the room’s mood shifted back to the jovial side, but with less crazed energy than when Kuroo entered. Iwaizumi and Hana went over to talk to the younger players to help soothe their nerves, the Uno group are cleaning up their cards, and Suna and Hyakuzawa have somehow gotten rid of all evidence of onigiri. Things are finally heading in the right direction.

‘Thank God for managers,’ Kuroo thinks, ‘and athletic trainers’.

“Damn, I thought Iwaizumi was gonna kill us all,” Komori says quietly.

“That would be unwise,” Ushijima answers, taking everything too literally as always.

Kuroo hums. He watches Iwaizumi sit beside Suzuki, their youngest member and their only high schooler, to take him through a calming ritual. Hana is close by, talking with the other greenhorns.

Not even minutes in and they already seem better, relaxing enough to laugh and joke with Iwaizumi and Hana. Looking at the duo work their magic, it reminds Kuroo of…

“They’re like the mom and dad of the team, don’t cha think?” Atsumu’s drawl floats within Kuroo’s hearing range. He turns to see Atsumu plopping down on the sofa next to Sakusa.

“Who?” Sakusa asks, not looking up from his novel.

“Hajime-kun and Misaki-chan, duh!”

That was exactly what Kuroo thought. Hearing Atsumu voice them out reminded Kuroo of that list in Bokuto and Yaku’s room that they’d half-jokingly created. He purposely catches Komori’s gaze, and mutual understanding occurs between them:

Hana Misaki could possibly be Iwaizumi’s secret girlfriend.

With context, it makes perfect sense why they would want to keep their relationship under wraps. The national team—athletes and staff members alike—have a strict no infra-dating policy, so if the higher-ups catch wind of a budding romance in their midst, their jobs would be at risk. Even Atsumu, who likes to flaunt how disgustingly in love he is with Sakusa, was forced to keep it within their circle of friends to protect his and Sakusa’s reputation.

Iwaizumi finally stands up after he’s done, and the young players follow. He extends a hand to Hana, who takes it, and she’s gracefully pulled up as if she weighed like a feather. Hana sways with the pulling force, almost tipping into Iwaizumi’s chest, but steadies herself in time. It’s almost like a scene from a K-drama.

Kuroo files away his findings to dissect later as Iwaizumi and Hana make conversation with other players. There will be a lot to discuss with the Iwaizumi Investigation Team tonight if time calls for it, but for now, they have a match to win.

The cue for the team’s entry into the court comes shortly after in the form of a group call. Kuroo rounds everyone up as he talks to his team, doing an obligatory cursory check and head count.

“Kuroo, we’re ready.”

“Alrighto. Be there in a bit.” He hangs up, then signals to Iwaizumi the okay.

The team gets into their usual lineup with Ushijima in the forefront as the ace and the veteran players surrounding him only slightly behind.

“Go out there and have fun!” Hana chirps, looking over the them like a proud mother hen.

Iwaizumi pumps his fist. “Yesterday, the women’s team won against Kenya. Now it’s our turn to whoop Canada’s asses!”

The players’ resounding cheers are almost loud enough to shake the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The matchup and the schedule is taken from the official Tokyo 2020 Olympics website, and I’ll be closely referring to it for the timeline of this fic, so go check it out if you want to! 
> 
> https://tokyo2020.org/en/schedule/volleyball-schedule#20210724_VVO
> 
> On another note, if anyone would like to volunteer as my beta reader (mainly to check for any plot holes I may have missed), feel free to inbox me


	6. Sweetheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So you know if Iwaizumi had like, a high school sweetheart back in Miyagi?”
> 
> Kageyama blinks. He stares at Komori disbelievingly.
> 
> “High school sweetheart,” Kageyama repeats flatly. “Why?”

Kageyama’s sets were perfect. His teammates played well. Coach Hibarida’s strategies was practically flawless. All their player switches and time-outs were made with logic and reason. Everyone’s energy was high until the very end. They should have been able to win against Canada.

Yet, they lost.

After a grueling five-set game with two sets going well into the late twenties, Canada’s ace finally scored the Deuce-breaker, slamming the ball mere inches away from Yaku’s outstretched hand.

It was frustrating, but a good game nonetheless.

The team lines up, shakes hands with Team Canada, thanks the audience for their support, then proceed with their cool down. As consistent as always, Iwaizumi is there, guiding them through the workout even though they’ve all done it so many times, they could do it asleep. The managers are also running around handing out wet towels and water bottles. Kageyama accepts his bottle with thanks before chugging half of it in one go.

“Good work, everyone. You all did well.” It’s Kuroo and his team from the Japanese Volleyball Association, and they’re heading this way with some cameramen. Hopefully they wouldn’t have a post-game interview because all Kageyama wants to do at this point is collapse into bed.

“Hajime-kun, ya have a nail clipper?” Kageyama hears Atsumu ask in the background. This prompts him to inspect all ten of his fingernails: sleep can wait, he’d have to groom them first.

Kuroo is speaking to the cameras, giving a run-down of the volleyball matches played today as he gestures to the half-empty arena. Kageyama wonders how he manages to speak so eloquently in front of all those cameras, and without a script no less.

“…Although it’s a shame we lost, we will do our very best in the matches to come. Also,in the court next door, The Pool B matchup resulted in a 3-1 victory for Argentina against Brazil. Suzuki-san, please give us the highlights—”

“Kageyama, Kageyama!” Without warning, Hinata comes barreling into him. Luckily, he’s more than used to his best friend’s antics, and braces to support both their weights. “Argentina won against Brazil!”

Kageyama’s not deaf; he heard Kuroo perfectly fine— it is just unnecessary and a waste of precious energy to outwardly show his interest— he’s only _slightly_ proud. Nothing to make a big deal of.

“So?” Kageyama says as stoically as possible as he looks down at his nails.

“ _‘So??’”_ Hinata parrots. “What the hell Bakageyama, aren’t you cheering for—”

“Thought Shouyou-kun would be on Team Brazil,” Atsumu butts in, apparently having overheard them. The blond comes over to them, leaning onto Hinata’s shoulder. “Ya played Beach there a couple years didn’t ya?”

Hinata laughs, letting Atsumu use him as an armrest. Kageyama’s irritation flares. “Yeah, but I also have a friend in Team Argentina too! We played Beach together in Rio and it was so much fun!”

Oh Kageyama knows well about Hinata’s adventures with Oikawa when they met in Rio. His irritation spikes: he wishes Hinata would stop telling the same story over and over. It got old the third time round.

Atsumu chuckles. “This setter sounds like an interesting fella. Introduce us when you can yeah?”

They continue with their stretches, listening to Kuroo’s commentary as they go.

“…And so to summarize the events thus far, we have Tunisia, Canada and Argentina currently undefeated, followed by Russia and Japan with one win, one loss—”

“WHOA Kageyama! Did you hear that? He’s undefeated! Undefeated! Aren’t you happy?”

“Shut up Boke, I’m not!” Kageyama lies as he shoves Hinata’s face away. Too close.

“Aw, don’t be such a tsundere.”

“Who’s a Tsundere!”

“Fine, fine,” Hinata finally gives in. “You suck, Tsundeyama!” He sticks out his tongue at Kageyama, then bounces over to Iwaizumi before Kageyama could hurl another insult at him.

“Iwaizumi-san! Did you hear Kuroo-san? He’s undefeated!!”

Iwaizumi noticeably perks at Hinata’s announcement, and the tips of his eyes crinkle with his smile. “I sure did.”

“They beat the previous champions too! Wonder what they’ll be like to play against!”

“I watched their game against Russia two days go. They’re amazing. _He’s_ amazing.” Iwaizumi’s tone goes unbearably soft at the end, it’s easy for Kageyama to figure who exactly Iwaizumi is referring to.

“Iwaizumi-san.” Hinata’s tone dips, and Kageyama has to strain to continue hearing them despite being so near. “Are you sure it’s okay to talk about the _opponent setter_ like that?”

Kageyama watches in awe as Iwaizumi’s face turns into an imitation of a tomato. Nowadays, he has never seen Iwaizumi be anything other than composed (or angry, if the team is fooling around too much).

It almost brings Kageyama back to middle school, where Oikawa would rile Iwaizumi up enough for the latter to hurl a volleyball at him in rage.

Seeing Iwaizumi’s reaction, Hinata laughs. “It’s okay! I completely understand!” This attracts some stares from the other team members too as they wonder what Hinata could have said to fluster Iwaizumi like this.

“Hey hey! What are you guys talking about?” Bokuto booms, still high in energy as if he didn’t play five sets just now. He’s flanked by Yaku and Aran.

“Nothing! Nothing at all,” Iwaizumi denies, and it might have been believable if his voice did not crack at the end.

“Ey, c’mon, it can’t be nothing if you’re blushing like that!” Aran presses.

“Don’t be shy, Iwaizumi, you can tell us,” Yaku singsongs

Thankfully, Iwaizumi is saved from further harassment when Coach Hibarida claps his hands, attracting all their attention. “If everyone is done with cool-down, please vacate the court and head back to your respective rooms. We will meet tomorrow at practice gym 3 at one in the afternoon.”

The team shouts their assent, and Iwaizumi takes this opportunity to slip away from the interrogation. He jogs over to Hana, their manager, to unload some of the baggage she’s carrying, and they follow the coaches out of the arena.

Naturally, with their original target gone, Yaku and Aran switch over to Hinata.

“You were talking about Iwaizumi’s girlfriend, right?”

“Ya know who it is, don’t you?”

“Is she pretty?”

“She’s a swimmer right?”

Kageyama contemplates going over to save his increasingly confused best friend, but was beaten to it by Bokuto. “Wait a moment guys. Hinata, you told me before that Iwaizumi doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

Hinata finally gets to answer when everyone quiets, looking like a lost child at the mall as he looks helplessly at Bokuto. “I did! Iwaizumi-san doesn’t have a girlfriend, he—”

“Guys! Hinata doesn’t know who it is,” Bokuto tells Yaku and Aran. “My disciple would never lie to me!”

“O-of course not, Bokuto-san!”

“I knew I can trust you!”

The scene unfolding before him is so hilarious that the urge to laugh builds up wishing him. All it takes is for him to make eye contact with Hinata as it all comes spilling out of his lips.

“Boke,” Kageyama says fondly. For some reason, he is unable to take his eyes off his best friend, who’s laughing with unrestrained joy as Bokuto carries him and swings him around.

* * *

Kageyama wakes up early next morning, well-rested and ready to start a new day. The bright yellow sun beams down through the windows, illuminating the expanse of his room. He sits up and turns to look at his tangerine roommate, who is snoring away with his lucky pillow clutched tightly to his person.

Normally, whoever gets up first would wake the other up to drag them to the gym, but all it took was one threatening glare from Iwaizumi that promised death if they even _thought_ of doing such a thing, and the duo came to a tacit agreement to hold off their morning workout during the Olympics.

So Kageyama lets Hinata sleep in, even pulling the blankets back up over him before he heads to the bathroom for his morning routine. Afterwards, he brings his phone and key card, quietly shuts the door behind him, and makes his way to the athletes’ dining hall.

The expanse of their corridor is quiet save for the clacking of Kageyama’s slippers against the linoleum floors, so when another pair of footsteps break his rhythmic gait, he can’t help but wonder who else would be up this bright and early.

“Ah? If it isn’t Tobio-chan.”

It’s a voice he hasn’t heard in a while, but one he definitely recognizes.

“Oikawa-san. Good morning.”

They’re both headed towards the elevator in the center, but from opposite directions. Kageyama barely has time to ponder about Team Argentina’ setter on an all-Japan floor when he sees that Oikawa is wearing a worn and stretched out Aoba Johsai VBC shirt and a loose pair of shorts. When Kageyama also remembers that Iwaizumi’s room is in the direction Oikawa is coming from, he no longer has to ponder.

Kageyama takes a fleeting look at the emergency exit and weighs between seven flights of stairs and elevator awkwardness with his childhood role-model-turned-nemesis. He’s ashamed to say he almost chose the former.

To get rid of the jitters that suddenly overtakes his body, Kageyama blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “Is Iwaizumi-san awake yet?”

“Nope, he needs all the beauty sleep he can get. You’re up pretty early yourself.”

“Yes.” Kageyama answers stiffly. “Did you…sleep well?”

Oikawa’s lip twitches. “Yes I did.”

The elevator finally opens. Both Kageyama and Oikawa step inside and stand at opposite corners, the rumbling of machinery as the only noise present. Should Kageyama try to make conversation again? Casually, he side-eyes Oikawa: his hair is noticeably flattened to one side, unstyled with his fringe sticking up rather unflatteringly. There’s also a hint of stubble on his chin and pillow marks along his cheek. In this half-asleep state, it’s as if he just upped and out of Iwaizumi’s room the moment he woke.

Forced conversation is a no-go then, Kageyama decides.

But as the elevator finally reaches the first floor, Kageyama remembers that Argentina won against Brazil yesterday. It’d be rude not to offer his congratulations, even if they’re not the best of friends.

And so, he does. 

Oikawa’s eyes widen a fraction. He clearly did not expect this, and Kageyama is almost proud that he managed to defy his expectations.

“Thank you.” Oikawa says, as elevator door opens. Kageyama quickly steps out, eager to get away, because for some reason he can feel his face heating up.

“Tobio.”

Kageyama’s footsteps falter.

“Argentina is going for Gold.”

Kageyama turns around. Oikawa is looking at him with determined eyes and an almost feral grin, face entirely devoid of any previous sleepiness. A shiver runs down Kageyama’s spine; _this_ was what he admired about Oikawa.

“Japan is also going for Gold,” he says back with all the confidence he has, because he wholeheartedly truly believes that they could.

Oikawa’s grin grows wider. “Then I guess we’ll see each other at at the finals. Don’t get knocked out now.”

“We won’t.”

Oikawa hums in response, giving Kageyama a lazy wave as he heads off in the opposite direction. Kageyama watches him until he rounds a corner—until he disappears from sight.

* * *

As the morning progresses, Kageyama was shortly joined by Suna, Komori and Sakusa at the athletes’ dining hall.

Among the three, Kageyama finds it easiest to talk to the easygoing Komori. Sakusa is cordial enough once he has had his second cup of caffeine, and as for Suna, Kageyama has probably said a grand total of ten words max to the man.

Of course, they talk about volleyball, the only common topic between everyone. But when they—namely Komori and Suna— begin straying towards the athletes’ personal lives rather than their stats and gameplay, Kageyama finds himself losing interest.

“Say, Kageyama,” Komori addresses him out of the blue. “You went to the same school as Iwaizumi-san?”

“Yes?” Kageyama answers warily. If they’re expecting him to contribute anything gossip-related, they’re going to be sorely disappointed. “He was my vice captain in middle school.”

“Komori, you think Kageyama’ll know?” Suna asks as if Kageyama himself isn’t present and listening to them.

Komori shrugs. “No harm in asking.”

“Um-”

“So you know if Iwaizumi had like, a high school sweetheart back in Miyagi?”

Kageyama blinks. He stares at Komori disbelievingly.

Sakusa seems to have paused mid-sip as he also stares at his cousin.

“High school sweetheart,” Kageyama repeats flatly. “Why?”

Komori quickly raises his hands in defense. “No reason! We were just curious! Because we heard that Iwaizumi’s gonna get married and—”

“ _Komori_ ,” Suna says sharply, but it is too late.

Komori’s words leave lasting echos in Kageyama’s brain. Iwaizumi is getting married?

“Ah! I mean, don’t listen to me, it’s just a rumor, I don’t even know if it’s true and he hasn’t told us anything, so just forget I said—”

Sakusa interrupts him, surmising Komori’s intentions with one swift sentence. “You’re trying to sherlock the identity of the wife.”

To Kageyama’s knowledge Iwaizumi doesn’t even _have_ anyone to potentially get married to. In the first place, his upperclassman-turned-athletic-trainer’s relationship status isn’t on Kageyama’s list of things to care about, but now that Komori brought this up, Kageyama realizes how little he really knows Iwaizumi outside of volleyball.

“My relationship with Iwaizumi-san is purely volleyball-related,” Kageyama tells them truthfully. “We played on the same team for only a year, then went to different high schools. So I don’t know anything about that, Komori-san.”

“Oh, it’s okay! I asked because I was curious, that’s all,” Komori quickly reassures him, and all topic concerning Iwaizumi is dropped thereafter.

Kageyama should have brushed it off as well. He really should. It is one thing to admire the man and his work ethic, but it is another to snoop around his personal life when he barely has a place in it.

Unfortunately though, Komori has planted the seed of curiosity in his brain, and it has now grown into a vegetative.

While Kageyama is somewhat confident that in Kitagawa Daichi, Iwaizumi wasn’t dating anyone. He is, however, unable to answer for Aoba Johsai. But he knows someone who can.

Before he can stop himself, he finds himself opening up his private chat with Kindaichi.

**Kageyama:**

_17:32_

Can I ask you a question, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.

**Kindaichi:**

_17:35_

Ok, what?

**Kageyama:**

_17:35_

Is Iwaizumi-san getting married?

**Kindaichi:**

17:36

????

No??

No one said anything about that…

**Kageyama:**

17:38

Okay.

Do you know if he dated anyone in high school.

**Kindaichi**

17:39

?????

Why??

But to answer your question, I don’t think so.

I only remember this one time a girl made Iwaizumi-san cookies and gave it to him after a practice match.

But after she left he said it’s too sweet and just gave it to Oikawa-san.

That’s it really.

**Kageyama**

17:40

Okay.

**Kindaichi**

17:41

Why did you ask??

**Kageyama**

17:42

It was a rumor a senpai on the team told me.

**Kindaichi**

17:42

Oh

Then it’s probably just a rumor then?

I think he would have invited us to the wedding if he was idk

Or at least told us.

**Kageyama**

17:43

I think so too.

Thank you for answering.

**Kindaichi**

17:43

No problem.

I think you shouldn’t pay attention to such rumors.

**Kageyama**

17:44

Oh. Okay.

**Kindaichi**

17:44

Good luck with Italy tomorrow.

**Kageyama**

17:45

Thank you.

We will definitely win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Grand King finally makes his debut!!
> 
> Hopefully I did Kageyama’s pov justice.


	7. New idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto finally understands what Kuroo meant now. “So you mean Iwaizumi might have brought his girlfriend back to his room last night?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part was originally longer, so I decided to split this into two chapters.

It has been a full week since their stay at Olympic village— a full week since Bokuto first discovered that Iwaizumi may have been hiding a lover of many years from them, but all they know for certain is:

  1. She is Japanese.



  1. She is currently in Olympic village.



According to Komori, even Kageyama, with the most extensive history with Iwaizumi dating back all the way to middle school, reports nothing of use to the Iwaizumi Investigation Team.

Personally, Bokuto is conflicted.

On one hand, Bokuto wants to call it quits on this whole sherlocking. Akaashi had told him off after hearing the story from Bokuto, and asked that he and the team respect Iwaizumi’s decision to keep his romantic life private. As for Bokuto, while he is burning with curiosity, he has never disobeyed Akaashi if he can help it.

On the other hand, it is hard to dissuade the others, given that Akaashi doesn’t have that much hold over them as much as he does Bokuto. Not even Kuroo was willing to stop, because “what Akaashi doesn’t know won’t hurt him”.

Once again, Bokuto finds himself in his and Yaku’s room as everyone tries again to deduce who Iwaizumi is dating. He keeps up the pretense of being no longer interested until Kuroo shows up with what could be the next major clue, and all his self-restraint goes flying out the window.

Bokuto placates himself by saying that this is _his_ room, and they just happened to be discussing the topic here. Akaashi wouldn’t fault him for not leaving, would he?

He locks eyes with Kuroo, who gives him a shit-eating grin like he could hear Bokuto’s thoughts.

“So, Kobayashi-san went home last night,” Kuroo announces with a flourish.

There was a beat of silence, then an “OH!” from Yaku.

“Exactly, I’m 100% sure Iwaizumi took advantage of that,” Kuroo says.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Bokuto asks. How would one of their managers going home be related to Iwaizumi and his lover?

“Iwaizumi-san and Kobayashi-san are roommates,” Komori helpfully supplies. “So if Kobayashi goes home, Iwaizumi has the room to himself.”

Eureka! Bokuto finally understands what Kuroo meant now. “So you mean Iwaizumi might have brought his girlfriend back to his room last night?”

“Well, who wouldn’t?” Aran laughs. “So is Kobayashi-san still home?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “No, he came back earlier today.”

“Aw, so you mean we could have seen who it was?” Yaku says, disappointed.

“Me and Suna were up at eight this morning, and we didn’t see anything,” Komori pipes up. “Iwaizumi-san was even still asleep then!”

“I woke at the same time as Iwaizumi, and he wasn’t with anyone when we went down the elevator,” Aran says.

“So…maybe he didn’t bring anyone back after all?”

“Nah, I actually think he did though, he seemed…happier? Normally Iwaizumi’s pretty grumpy before he gets his breakfast right? But this morning he freaking _smiled_ and asked how I slept,” Aran tells them with wide eyes. “He definitely got some last night.”

Everyone bursts into excited murmurs at Aran’s story. Bokuto completely understands what Aran is getting at: he has always sleeps better with Akaashi by his side, and the mornings with him were always a little pinker than the rest.

“Hey Suna, you know where your sister was last night?”

“No, but I can ask,” Suna answers as he rummages around for his phone.

“C’mon, ya think she’ll just outright tell ya?” Aran asks disbelievingly.

“Yes? Reina can’t lie to save her life, and I can always threaten to tell mom if I think she is.”

While everyone is busy hounding Suna about his sister, Bokuto notices Kuroo off to the side with his ‘deep thinking’ face. He gives his best friend a nudge.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hmm, I’m starting to think that we’re heading in the wrong direction…like, my gut’s telling me that it’s neither Hana nor Suna Reina. But what we got so far…hmm...”

Bokuto doesn’t comprehend a single word Kuroo is saying, so he just claps Kuroo on the shoulder. “Hey. Why don’t we just ask Iwaizumi outright?”

“He’s kept it so low for the few years we’ve known each other, what makes you think he’ll tell us now?” Kuroo says, exasperated. “Besides,” he adds with a smile, “ the fun part is figuring it out for ourselves, no?”

“ _Fun_?” Bokuto almost shrieks, “I’m literally dying to know who it is! And I wanna shake him by the shoulders and just ask him why he didn’t tell us!”

“He probably just—”

“Shut up guys! Suna’s calling his sister!”

Everyone quiets. Suna has his phone on loudspeaker so everyone can hear, so for a few solid seconds, only the call tone could be heard as everyone waits with bated breath. Bokuto could feel his palms sweat and his heartbeat race.

“What’s up, Nii-chan?” Reina’s voice sounds from the speakers. Everyone cheers silently, and Aran and Yaku bump their fists.

“Hey, where were you last night?” Suna goes straight to the point.

_‘Be more subtle!’_ Motoya mouths, but Suna ignores him.

“Huh?”

“I said, where were you last night?”

“Oh, well…”

This is it, if Suna could get his sister to fess up, they could finally put this case to rest and move on with their lives—

“In my room? I was with Miko-chan the whole time.”

Bokuto could feel their balloon of hope burst with these words.

“…Are you sure?”

“Nii-chan, I should be asking you why you want to know,” Reina snarks back. 

Suna gives everyone a cursory glance. Then, he says, “nothing. Just wondering.”

“O-kay then.” Reina doesn’t sound like she believes him. “Is that all?”

“Yeah.”

When Suna cuts the call, everyone lets out simultaneous groans of disappointment. Some of them think that Reina might be lying, but Suna firmly reassures them that if she was, he would know.

“So is it Hana-san, then?” Komori finally says after Reina is officially crossed off the list.

“There’s no one else we could think of. Unless any of ya know something?” Aran asks.

“I’ve never seen him talk with girls much,” Suna says when no one answers Aran. “To be honest Iwaizumi-san and Hana-san don’t really give me ‘couple’ vibes.”

“They’re together all the time though, and Iwaizumi treats her way better than the rest of us!” Bokuto argues.

“Isn’t that just because she’s the only female among us,” Yaku says. Bokuto furrows his brows, as he contemplates Yaku’s words. He has to admit, Yaku has a point: If Iwaizumi talks to Hana the way he does his athletes during training, HR would definitely go after his ass.

“What now, then?” Bokuto finally says. He should have listened to Akaashi and called it quits. He turns to Kuroo, who has been silent all this time. “Hey man, maybe we—”

Kuroo cuts him off. “Yeah. It’s not Hana.”

“ _What_.” Five different voices chorus simultaneously.

“Yeah. Hana was with my colleague from the association. Apparently they’re high school friends, and they went to dinner together then went straight back to their rooms.”

“Maybe…she went to Iwaizumi’s room after,” Yaku says, but he sounds unsure.

Kuroo gives him a flat look. “You think.”

“Okay, probably not then.”

“Kobayashi didn’t see anything amiss. No traces of another person whatsoever,” Kuroo adds. “Iwaizumi and his girlfriend were very careful. We literally have no evidence, only speculation.”

“So does that mean Iwaizumi didn’t bring his girlfriend back after all?”

“No way.”

“But what about what Aran said? Iwaizumi was uncharacteristically happy today…”

“That doesn’t automatically mean he got laid though.”

His teammates’ bickering was giving him a mild headache, so Bokuto opted not to listen to them anymore. Instead, he turns to ask Kuroo, “bro, so you think it’s not both of them?”

“I don’t think so, yeah.” Was Kuroo’s absentminded reply. Bokuto sighs.

“Hey, maybe we should just wait for Iwaizumi to tell us? I mean, I really really wanna know too, but we don’t even have any idea where to—”

Bokuto was interrupted once again by a series of raps on their door. A few seconds later, they repeat, but louder. This finally grabs everyone’s attention, but the impatient knocking doesn’t cease.

“I’ll get it,” Komori volunteers, hopping off the bed. He pulls the door open to reveal an irritated Miya Atsumu.

“‘Tsumu!” Aran calls first.

“Tsum-tsum!” Bokuto follows, giving his friend a smile. “Come in!”

Atsumu’s irritation does not falter, but he does let himself in and leans against the wall separating the bedroom and the bathroom. Komori shuts the door behind him. “I was gonna tell Komori that Omi’s been tryna call him fer hours.”

Komori lets out a surprised noise and scrambles over to his bag to take out his phone.

“Never expected he might be in here,” Atsumu continues. He folds his arms across his chest. “Actually, why the fuck are y’all here? Y’all have a party and not invite me or somethin’?”

“Party?” Suna snorts. “No, we were just—”

“We’re trying to figure out who Iwaizumi’s girlfriend is!” Bokuto tells him, only to get slapped by Kuroo and Aran from either side. “Ow! Wait, were we keeping this a secret?”

“Girlfriend.” Atsumu echoes flatly.

“Bokuto you idiot,” Yaku says half-heartedly.

“Sunarin, really?” Atsumu raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I expected better from you. Bokkun too.”

Bokuto gives Atsumu a confused look. He turns to Suna, who looks as confused as he does. Atsumu is usually on board with all their gossip and pranks, so why does he seem disappointed in them now?

“Why?” Suna finally asks.

Atsumu sighs. He comes further into the room to stand in front of everyone. Then he says, with the most annoying drawl to ever grace mankind, “cus Iwaizumi’s gay, ya dimwits. He doesn’t have a _girl_ friend, but a _boy_ friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Atsumu stans rise up!


	8. Condoms and Chocolates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is, Atsumu knew long before Bokuto and the rest that Iwaizumi’s been hiding a lover from them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> University has been tough, but I (finally) have time to update!

“Cus Iwaizumi’s gay, ya dimwits. He doesn’t have a _girl_ friend, but a _boy_ friend.”

With that bold statement, the room goes silent with flabbergasted shock. A smirk makes its way up Atsumu’s face, replacing his previously irritated demeanor. “C’mon guys, you really think someone as hot as Hajime-kun is straight?”

  
“He could be bi, though,” Suna says. “Or pan, or whatever else there is out there that’s not straight.”

“How do _you_ know it’s a boyfriend and not a girlfriend?” Yaku shoots, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Atsumu hums thoughtfully. It is true that his bold statement is pretty out there; it is possible that Iwaizumi could have a girlfriend after all. But call it gut feeling: Atsumu is pretty sure Iwaizumi is dating a man.

He tells his eager teammates as such, then quickly makes his exit before any of them can try to interrogate him for more, leaving behind a myriad of surprised and confused faces.

The truth is, Atsumu knew long before Bokuto and the rest that Iwaizumi’s been hiding a lover from them all. It was purely an accident—from that one time a few months ago when Iwaizumi had forgotten his phone at Onigiri Miya after a team dinner. Atsumu was the one to retrieve it from his brother’s shop and to give it back to Iwaizumi the next morning.

Overnight, Iwaizumi’s phone had lit up so often, Atsumu was forced to set it to ‘do not disturb’. The next morning, when he checked to see what the fuss is all about, there was a startling 100+ messages and 4 missed calls from a single person: a name that read ‘Tooru’.

If one asked if Atsumu was surprised that Iwaizumi had a worried lover awaiting his return, he would have laughed and shook his head: Iwaizumi was the personification of ‘boyfriend material’. In Atsumu’s eyes, he definitely wouldn’t have trouble getting into a relationship.

But was he surprised that this _Tooru_ person had continually called and messaged Iwaizumi all through the night? Yes. He briefly wondered if Iwaizumi was dating an insomniac. Next, he wondered if Iwaizumi and his lover did not live together, since _Tooru_ seemed unaware of Iwaizumi’s current whereabouts.

Atsumu carried these thoughts with him all the way to the gym where the national team is based at. When he handed the phone back to a relieved Iwaizumi, he prods at Iwaizumi about his mystery lover, curious as he was.

Iwaizumi threw him a bone. “Yeah, we’ve been dating since I was in university. Knew each other for longer. But we’re keeping it low—very low—so I haven’t told anyone.”

“Why?” Atsumu can’t help but ask. At that, he sees Iwaizumi shift uncomfortably before he answers.

“It’s better that way.”

* * *

  
Since then, Iwaizumi does not talk about his lover, nor does Atsumu ask. While he was curious, he knew a warning when he hears one. He didn’t even tell his own boyfriend about this, since he actually respects the trainer and wants to remain in his good books. That, and Sakusa never had an interest in gossip anyway.

So the identity of Iwaizumi’s lover filters out of his memory, replaced with more important matters—like the Olympics, for starters—until the previous night.

Now Atsumu and Sakusa don’t make it a habit to bone often during season, but last night, Atsumu’s feeling a little horny (and a little frustrated at their loss to Canada). They’d ran out of condoms—used the last one for a quickie yesterday— so Atsumu heads down to one of the condom machines to restock.

The last person he expected to run into is Iwaizumi. He can recognize those broad shoulders and spiked hair from anywhere.

Casually, he strode in, standing next to Iwaizumi.

He cleared his throat.

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened when he noticed Atsumu, and a curse escaped him. Atsumu spied one, two, _three_ condoms in Iwaizumi’s hands before they were hastily stuffed into his pockets.

Atsumu smiled like the cat that got the cream. “Hajime-kun,” he said as sultrily as he could. “I see you’ve a fun night planned.”

Iwaizumi looks one step away from a seizure. “Atsumu— you— I—” 

“But wait, don’t you already have someone waiting for you? Why’re you hooking up here?” Atsumu asked before he could stop himself. He had asked out of genuine curiosity and not judgement; maybe they broke up or something.

“No! I mean yes!” Pink splotches coloured Iwaizumi’s cheeks, and Atsumu finds it very endearing. “My- my partner is also competing in the games, don’t get the wrong idea, and I’m, uh, meeting up with them tonight.”

“I see,” Atsumu sing-songed. He took note the use of gender-neutral pronouns, and the fact that Iwaizumi is dating an _athlete_ —not surprising, given his line of work. “Hope you have lots of _fun_ tonight, Hajime-kun.”

“Y-yeah, thanks.” Iwaizumi coughed lightly. “You two better not exert yourselves as well. We need you to remain in tip-top condition.”

“Yes sir.” Atsumu gave him a mock salute.

“I better not see you both fatigued tomorrow.” Iwaizumi ended with a warning, but right now, he looked more embarrassed than threatening to Atsumu. He bumped Atsumu lightly on the shoulder before heading off, probably to his partner.

Chuckling, Atsumu watched him go before turning back to the machine to dispense his first condom.

* * *

“Hey Omi?” Atsumu said later that night.

Sakusa paused his ministrations. “Is there something wrong?”

“I think Hajime-kun might be _a-ahh—”_ Atsumu’s mind went blank when Sakusa suddenly curled his fingers _just right._

“Don’t talk about other men in the middle of sex,” Sakusa said, rather brusquely, a stark contrast to the hands moving between his legs that was blooming steady pleasure from within him.

“Sorry, sorry, jus’ had a thought that—” Atsumu’s cut off again by his own breathy moan when Sakusa gave his balls a gentle squeeze.

And after that, Atsumu was unable to produce any coherent sounds for a long while.

* * *

After that declaration, a few of them tried hounding Atsumu about it, but no one managed to get out a straight answer. When asked, the blond would simply dodge the question or change the subject.

Asking Sakusa yielded no results at all as well, since the man flat-out refused to take part in any of their ‘trashy gossip’.

It is possible Atsumu really does know something—which didn’t make sense at all, given that Iwaizumi and Atsumu aren’t exactly the closest of friends within the Japanese team— and is trying to shake them off Iwaizumi’s trail. But the revelation that Iwaizumi could possibly be dating a man seemed to fire everyone up even more—even Suna, who technically doesn’t have a reason to be involved now that his sister is confirmed _not_ to have any romantic ties with Iwaizumi. As for Bokuto, he’s now ten times saltier that Iwaizumi kept this fact all to himself.

“Now I really wanna know! He literally had a _boyfriend_ in the _Olympics_ and didn’t introduce him to his bros!” Bokuto had yelled into Kuroo’s ear, and Kuroo then proceeded to endure variations of the same sentence whined into his ear for a good few hours.

But while everyone wants to know who Iwaizumi’s mystery lover is, they all have a job to do, and that is to bring Japanese volleyball back to its former glory. Not one single person brought their curiosity to the court, and it is with everyone’s stellar teamwork and play that Japan managed to snag its second victory from Italy that night.

He’s incredibly proud of his countrymen tonight, and Kuroo relays these exact thoughts to the videocamera in front of him; Team Italy is a team they never expected to win, based on previous gameplay analytics, but they did it. They made it so far with two victories one loss so far under their belt.

They wrap up their short video clip and head back to their accommodation. Their leader then announces that they’ll have a meeting the next morning to plan the upcoming signing event by members of the national team.

Kuroo, like the rest of the JVA team members, begin to complain— there’s still a few weeks away until then, must they really hold that meeting _now_?— but their leader shuts them all down with a curt ‘orders from HQ’.

Grumbling under their breath, the JVA members trudge back up to their rooms to get their well-deserved rest. Kuroo has taken one (1) step into his room when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, signaling an incoming call.

If this is the higher-ups calling, Kuroo thinks petulantly, he’ll pretend he didn’t notice it.

But it’s Iwaizumi calling, so Kuroo dutifully answers the call.

“Kuroo? I need… a little help with something.”

Now, Kuroo is intrigued. “What can I do for you, my friend?”

“So, uh, I ordered chocolates.” Iwaizumi says, and he sounds very reluctant.

“You ordered chocolates,” Kuroo parrots. But on the inside, he’s screaming; chocolates? Specially made and delivered right to their doorstep? There’s no other possible use for it other than to give it to his significant other, Kuroo’s sure.

“Yeah, it’s coming tomorrow at eight, but I have a staff meeting. I kinda need you to hold onto it for me? Just for the morning’s fine! I should be done by ten.”

A smirk makes its way up Kuroo’s face, and he tries not to let the excitement show in his voice. “Why, chocolates for lil ol’ me? I’m flattered, but you must know that I’m off the market, sorry to disappoint.”

“You’re insufferable.” Was Iwaizumi’s tired reply. “So can you? It’s okay if you can’t though.”

“I don’t know, I _am_ a busy man.” He _does_ have his own meeting to go to, after all. “But maybe I can, if you’ll tell me who’s the lucky recipient?”

At this point, subtlety is not in Kuroo’s dictionary. He waits with bated breath for Iwaizumi’s reply. There’s a chance that Iwaizumi’s just ask someone else; someone not as nosey as Kuroo. Or maybe, just maybe, Kuroo will get his long awaited answer right now, with this call.

“Oh, you don’t know him; it’s for a good friend that I haven’t seen in a while. We only saw each other again now, at the Olympics.” 

Friend his ass. Kuroo bites back a groan. He does not buy that one bit. “Oya, do you go giving chocolates to all of your ‘good friends’?”

“One that I haven’t seen in over three years, yes.”

“I see…Then you want me to leave it with a staff member of their team?” It’s a last ditch attempt. With this, he can at least narrow it down to what _sport_ the mystery boyfriend is in.

“That’s alright,” Iwaizumi says, shattering Kuroo’s hopes. “It’s better to give these kind of things in person, anyway. The fridge in your room is fine.”

“Right.” Disappointment is an understatement to what Kuroo is feeling right now. At the very least, Kuroo can take comfort in that fact that he’s helping a friend out.

“Thanks! I’ll send you the e-receipt, and I’ll ask the deliveryman to call you when he gets here.”

They exchange a few more words and ‘good night’s before ending the call. The moment Kuroo hears the dial tone, he throws his phone onto his bed, along with himself, and groans into his pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is Iwaizumi’s ‘good friend’ going to be, I wonder.


	9. Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘It’s weird that Iwaizumi’s letting you follow him,’ Kuroo texts back immediately. ‘Seems weird, don’t you think?’
> 
> ‘How?’ Bokuto replies. 
> 
> ‘He purposely kept his identity secret for so long, and now he’s suddenly letting you follow him to meet him. Seems a little careless.’

It’s a day after their match against Italy, and instead of getting to sleep in, Kuroo has to get up at Too Early O’clock to get ready for another JVA meeting. He loves his job, he really does, but at times like this, he wished he took the stocktrader route like Kenma did.

He goes through his morning routine with bleary eyes and heads down to breakfast with some of his colleagues. Sipping idly on his miso soup, he opens up his and Iwaizumi’s chat in anticipation of the latter’s chocolate delivery:

As promised, Iwaizumi sent him the e-receipt for the delivery last night, confirming his purchase and doorstep delivery today at eight in the morning.

_‘Heavenly Pâtisserie: sweets directly from the gods’_ reads the logo in fancy English cursive. If this isn’t an indication enough that Iwaizumi isn’t cutting corners when it comes to his lover, the price tag for the box of a dozen bonbon chocolat is enough to make Kuroo whistle appreciatively.

According to Iwaizumi, the deliveryman will call Iwaizumi when he arrives at the lobby of their hotel, and Iwaizumi will redirect him to Kuroo. Kuroo just has to retrieve the chocolates and store them in his fridge until Iwaizumi is finished with his meeting. Simple.

Except the fact that Kuroo is dying to know who the hell Iwaizumi’s giving the chocolates to—he’s literally playing Cupid for someone he doesn’t even know! He cries a little on the inside at the missed opportunity, but there’s nothing to be done when Iwaizumi is being so tight-lipped.

While he and Bokuto have tossed around speculations on why Iwaizumi and his lover have to be so secretive, in the end they’re just speculation. They don’t have enough concrete facts to go on, and as Iwaizumi’s friends, that stings a little.

“Kuroo!” Kuroo looks up at his coworker. “Shall we go wait in the meeting room? The hotel staff said it’s ready.”

“Oh, go on ahead first! I need to run some errands beforehand.”

Soon after his coworkers leave, Kuroo gets the call from the deliveryman. Since unauthorized personnel do not get access to Olympic village, Kuroo goes out to meet him at the entrance. It’s a long walk, but that’s the closest the deliveryman can come.

When he passes security and steps out into the warm morning sun, he sees the deliveryman standing next to his moped, a pink box in his hands.

“Hello, I’m here to receive the chocolates on behalf of Iwaizumi Hajime,” Kuroo tells him.

“Understood, if you could please sign here—” Kuroo scribbles down his signature and retrieves the box. It’s heavier than it looks. “The box is insulated against heat, and dry ice is packed inside. However, the restaurant recommends the product to be refrigerated within two hours upon receipt, and consumed within three days for utmost quality.”

Kuroo politely thanks the deliveryman with a smile for his service. After they part, he gives the box a good look as he heads back into Olympic village. The box certainly looks fancy: a peach pink base with intricate line art in white and gold, and it is even adorned with a baby blue ribbon. The patisserie’s logo and tag line, along with all their social media are neatly printed on the top.

Kuroo meanders back to put the chocolates in his fridge, all the while furiously texting Bokuto that no, he still doesn’t know _who_ Iwaizumi’s gifting the chocolates to. He contemplates telling the other members of the Iwaizumi Investigation team, but more people knowing means a higher risk of Iwaizumi catching on to their shenanigans.

When he gets to his room, he begins to unpack the box of chocolates out of its larger box with the dry ice so that it would fit into the mini fridge. The chocolates itself were neatly packed into a cream-colored bakery box divided into twelve compartments, and each bonbon was uniquely shaped and decorated, and there’s even one with what looks like gold flakes on it. Everything about this patisserie and its products so far screams ‘fancy’.

_Not bad, Iwaizumi_ , Kuroo thinks to himself. Maybe he’ll get Kenma something from here on his birthday, custom-made, of course.

He makes to throw away the box, but something catches his eyes. He missed it just now, since it’s camouflaged with the exterior of of the box, but it’s a small piece of card taped to the box with a neat English print:

_We hope you will enjoy our delectables, handcrafted with utmost care and quality._

_Tendou Satori_

_Head Pattisier_

_Heavenly Pâtisserie_

* * *

The men’s Japanese volleyball team has the entire evening off to prepare for their match against Poland tomorrow afternoon. Some, like Sakusa and Ushijima for one, slunk off to their rooms the moment the coach gave his dismissal, but most of them have elected to spend it spectating the other Olympic matches.

“Hey hey! Let’s go watch the women’s volleyball match!” Bokuto hollers. He was met with a chorus of agreements from their younger teammates.

Atsumu nudges Hinata. “Ooh, they’re up against Brazil, righ’?”

“Yeah! But maybe I’ll go watch beach volleyball…help! I can’t decide!” Hinata wails.

“My sister’s competing in the 800m freestyle tonight, I’m going to watch her,” Suna says. “Aran, you coming?”

“Yeah, why not.”

“Maybe I’ll go too, the women there are pretty hot,” Yaku muses.

“You guys have fun. I’m going to watch the baseball team tonight,” Iwaizumi says, and it’s almost glossed over by the excitement from the players, but Atsumu and his sharp fox-like hearing caught it.

“You’re not going for volleyball, Hajime-kun?”

“Yeah, the Japanese baseball team is going up against the US, and I want to watch it.”

“Hm, didn’t know you liked baseball.”

“Not that much, to be honest, but a friend of mine is playing tonight and I’ll go support him.”

By this point, Atsumu and Iwaizumi’s conversation has caught the ears of a few members of the team, including that of Bokuto’s. The silver-haired man turns with a snap of his neck to his athletic trainer.

“You have a friend in the baseball team?”

“Ah yeah, he’s the manager and scorekeeper of the Japanese baseball team—”

“What?” About three different voices exclaim as more attention is brought to Iwaizumi.

“How do you know him?”

“What’s his name?”

”How old is he?”

Hinata watches, bewildered, as his teammates interrogate Iwaizumi about his baseball friend. He turns to Atsumu beside him, asks the chuckling blond: “Atsumu-san, what’s going on?”

“Ah, nothing to be concerned about, Shouyou-kun. Our friends just have…a little misunderstanding.” Atsumu placates, but he’s still chuckling.

“If you say so…”

A few hours later finds Bokuto sitting next to Iwaizumi at the Yokohama Baseball Stadium, watching the Japan vs USA match, despite just recently not knowing the difference between baseball and softball.

The reason? He wants to know who this ‘friend’ from the baseball team Iwaizumi is cheering on.

Kuroo told him that Iwaizumi had chocolates from a well-known chocolatier—from the former guess-monster of Shiratorizawa, to be exact— delivered to olympic village this morning. They both agreed that it’s _got_ to be for his significant other, and him going to a baseball match to cheer on whoever this person is can’t be a coincidence.

So Bokuto watches on with interest as people take turns hitting a white ball with a metal bat. Sometimes, the ball flies out of bounds, and the crowds roar. Sometimes, the bat hits air, and the crowds groan. Sometimes, Japan’s ace pitcher yells an _‘oshi oshi oshi’_ and his teammates become even more fired up.

Japan manages to steal a win from the US by the ninth inning, closing off with a 5-3 score much to the delight of the Japanese.

As easily distracted as he is, Bokuto almost forgets what he’s here for, lost in the crowd’s cheering, the exciting plays, and Japan’s charismatic ace, but luckily, Iwaizumi helps jog his memory when he tells them he’s heading to the changing rooms to meet his friend.

Bokuto, being Bokuto and without a shred of subtlety, immediately hopped aboard and practically demanded to be brought along. He feels Yaku elbow him in the ribs and hears the distinct slap of a facepalm (probably Atsumu), but he doesn’t back down. Thankfully, Iwaizumi doesn’t think much of it and allows Bokuto to tag along, much to everybody’s surprise.

So he and Iwaizumi separated from the rest of their friends enroute to the Baseball teams’ changing rooms, and in the meantime, Bokuto sends of a quick update to Kuroo.

_‘It’s weird that Iwaizumi’s letting you follow him,’_ Kuroo texts back immediately. _‘Seems weird, don’t you think?’_

_‘How?’_ Bokuto replies.

_‘He purposely kept his identity secret for so long, and now he’s suddenly letting you follow him to meet him. Seems a little careless’._

_‘Huh. Maybe. Should I not go, then?’_

_‘Just go. Just in case it is him, but I wouldn’t count on that.’_

“You’ve ever been inside a baseball dugout?” Iwaizumi asks, and Bokuto hastily stuffs his phone back into his pant pocket before suspicion is aroused.

“N-Nope! Isn’t it the same as a changing room? I’ve always wanted to look at other teams’ changing rooms, haha!”

“Kinda, but not really. It’s hotter and stuffier than it looks. My friend Chris, he was part of my university’s baseball team, so sometimes I would drop by—”

_So his name is Chris,_ Bokuto thinks excitedly. _They met at university—a long term relationship! And since Chris is in another Olympic sport, it checks up that the volleyball team wouldn’t cross paths with him!  
  
_

Bokuto feels like a genius! He has it all figured out!  
  


Bokuto and Iwaizumi make idle conversation as they cut through the throng of athletes towards the baseball teams’ changing rooms. They get pass security with no hassle, and Iwaizumi texts his ‘friend’ to let him know he’s arrived.

By this point, Bokuto is beside himself with giddiness and anticipation. Is he finally, finally going to be introduced to Iwaizumi’s mystery lover?

“So, what’s your _friend_ like?” Bokuto starts in what he hopes is in a casual manner.

“Oh, he’s half-Japanese and American, so he’s pretty tall, and uh, he’s pretty quiet and well-mannered. He kinda reminds me of Ushijima, but…more expressive?”

“Like Omi?”

“Like Sakusa, but more…optimistic— oh, Chris!”

A tall, wavy-haired brunet waves back a greeting, coming to stand next to Iwaizumi. Bokuto gives him a once over: pretty handsome—with the sharp chin and pointed nose of a half— but nothing on Akaashi’s beauty, in his very biased opinion.

“Hajime,” Chris says, his voice a smooth tenor. “I received your gift, they were really nice. You didn’t have to go through the trouble, though.”

Iwaizumi laughs. “Nonsense, you’re finally getting married, and we’re finally meeting for the first time in years! This is the least I could do.”

_...Eh?_

Bokuto blinks once in confusion as Iwaizumi’s words process in his brain.

“Thank you, my fiancée really likes chocolates.”

Bokuto blinks twice in confusion. Does that mean…

“No problem, I look forward to the wedding.”

_Ehhh? Nani??_ Bokuto internally screams, feeling somewhat like he had been trolled.

* * *

Iwaizumi Hajime is fresh out of a shower and is just about to hit the sack when his phone rings. It’s a custom ringtone, so he knows immediately who it is, and pads across the room to receive the call.

“Hajime!” Comes an all-too-familiar whine.

“What.”

“What’s this about you giving other men chocolates!”

“…you mean Chris.”

“Chris?”

“My friend from UC Irvine? Manager of the Japanese baseball team? That half-Japanese-American Chris Takigawa who invited us to his wedding, remember?”

“Ohh, _that_ Chris. Right, right…”

“You forgot, didn’t you.”

“W-well, Shouyou made it seem—” Hajime chuckles when his boyfriend lets out a groan. “Hajime never even gives _me_ chocolates…”

“Oi, don’t turn this on me,” Hajime quips good-naturedly. “You have a physique to maintain. It’s bad enough I’m letting you eat milk bread.”

“Milk bread is the food of the Gods, followed closely by empanadas. Oh, right, you remember Tomas’ sister, Talia? She recently taught me this new recipe...”

Hajime hums indulgently, letting the Argentine prattle on about his love for empanadas and Talia’s supreme culinary skills. His gaze lands on his bag, where the ring is safely hidden away with no one but him the wiser.

“Hey,” Hajime blurts, overcome by an urge. 

“…Hm?”

”I...” Hajime says, futilely, for his tongue has suddenly refused to cooperate. He’s certain that he wants this, and he thinks his boyfriend wants this too. They’re both on the edge of twenty with stable careers, their parents’ blessings, and a lifetime of memories and understanding between them—there is no reason to wait any longer.   
  


But a small, insecure part of his brain pokes his ugly head up. _Not yet_ , it says.   
  


Gay relationships are barely accepted in Japan, and marriage is outright illegal. Even if they marry overseas, in the end, they’d have to part—each too committed to their respective careers to emigrate. Hajime wouldn’t, couldn’t ask him to come back when he has all he could ever ask for on the other side of the world.  
  


With too much uncertainty, Hajime finds that he doesn’t want to pop the cozy little bubble they currently have;

  
And with that, urge inside him dissipates.   
  
  


“…Be sure to win tomorrow,” Hajime says instead.

A sweet tinkle of laughter sounds from the other end. “Of course. You too, you better not lose.”

Hajime smiles, wishing that he could just teleport over to the Argentinian accommodation and see him. He stares giddily at his bag again, this time his heart fluttering with soft warmth.

He attempts to calm himself down, clearing his throat. “It’s late. You should go to sleep.”

“Hm, y-yeah.” A big yawn. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, call me whenever.”

“Okay, love you.”

Hajime steals a quick glance at his roommate on the other bed.

“Love you too,” Hajime says, low as a whisper.

Although volume has no correlation with the magnitude of his feelings for his boyfriend, he hopes that one day, he might be able to declare it with confidence to everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added a little snippet of our main stars at the end, hope you liked :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hm, does Iwaizumi actually have a girlfriend? We shall see ;)


End file.
